The 12 Drabbles of Christmas
by Lissibith
Summary: A series of 12 drabbles from the world of Harry Potter, past and present, centered around Christmas.
1. First Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

Ginny had grown active, as children her age were wont to do. Less than half a year old, she could only express this in rolling over and waving her arms in unspoken demands to be picked up, but the Weasleys could see the fire in their daughter's eyes.

"First girl in generations," Arthur said in wonder, still bemused at the thought. The house was quiet – it was Christmas Eve, and the other children were asleep.

Molly brushed a finger along her drowsing daughter's cheek. "She may be. But she's got brothers. She'll be so strong."

"Merry Christmas, loves."

"Merry Christmas."


	2. Christmas Regret

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

There would be the feast later, for the staff and students still at school, but for the moment Dumbledore sat in his study, alone. There was one ritual he had to undertake himself. Staring into the fire, he raised a class of spiced pumpkin juice.

"Merry Christmas, Ariana." _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you._

He took a sip, then raised the glass again. "Merry Chistmas, Aberforth." _You have been, at times, far more a man than I._

Another sip. And then. "Merry Christmas, Harry." _May my mistakes not be your downfall._ He finished the juice, then stared into the fire.


	3. Dutiful Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

"Well? What's the matter? Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Aunt Marge stared at nine-year-old Harry, who had dutifully joined the family in the sitting room to open Christmas presents. The current gift – one of three he had been given this holiday – hung limply from his hand.

"Thank you for the socks, Aunt Marge."

She frowned. "I don't like that tone of voice young man. But in the interests of a civil Christmas, I shall refrain from comment."

In the interests of maintaining the likelihood of getting some Christmas dinner, Harry likewise held his tongue. _Merry Christmas to him._


	4. Christmas Questions

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

"So Hermione, do the wi-… do the people at your school have Christmas trees?"

"Yes, Mom. They decorate them too, just like us."

"Ahh, electric lights and tinsel?"

"Well, not exactly like us I guess."

"And what about presents? Do the… do people who use magic still give gifts at the holidays?"

"I think their gifts are a little more likely to move on their own, but otherwise, yes."

"Move on their own?"

"Remind me not to bring you a chocolate frog, Mom."

"I think… yes, I think I'd prefer that Hermione."

"It's okay, Mom. They gross me out too."


	5. Divided Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

His hand had trembled as he wrote the three most ridiculous painful words he'd ever had to scribe.

_Return to sender._

It was said in the Sorting Hat's songs that Gryffindor was the house of the strong and brave. Percy never doubted his inclusion there – his parents as well as all his siblings had been Gryffindors. It had simply seemed right to be there. He hadn't given it a second thought.

Until now.

Not that he didn't belong, but that he needed Gryffindor's help cutting off from his misguided family.

Never before had he needed bravery and strength like this.


	6. Christmas Games

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

"He's dodging left… swinging right… he's got the keeper off balance and… scooooooore!"

Viktor nudged his broom up and around, finally coming to a stop above the center of the makeshift pitch. "You don't have to call it like a match, we're just playing," he called down to the girl sitting to one side of the practice area out back of his house.

"Are you kidding?" she called back. "I can't fly good, so this is the closest I'll ever get to playing Quidditch with my famous cousin."

"You want to play?" he asked, surprised.

She grinned. "More than anything."


	7. Family Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

The three sisters, his older cousins, sat on the sitting room couch, dressed identically in dark, demure dresses, hands folded in their laps, eyes on whoever was speaking.

Regulus seemed to think their rapt attention admirable, for he was trying to mimic them, but since he always ended up glancing back to the girls, the 5-year-old's attempts were laughable. Sirius didn't try. He found family gatherings dull, holiday ones especially so.

"Sirius?"

"Yes mother?"

She was staring at him. "Is there a problem?"

"No mother."

He didn't sigh as she looked away again, but he wanted to.

He hated Christmas.


	8. Christmas Emptiness

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

He hadn't had the apartment long – it seemed every few months he would screw up and either the landlord or another tenant would figure him out and he'd have to move again – and despite the season, he hadn't the heart to decorate it either. Drab walls, drab floor, drab curtains, drab life.

Christmas. He had thought, during his years at Hogwarts, that he'd finally found the family that could stay by his side no matter what. But now they were scattered – James, Peter and Lily all dead, Sirius in prison, accused of their murders.

But now, just another Christmas alone.


	9. Christmas Traditions

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

"Wow, thanks Mother." Bill held the bulky sweater up against his frame. It was lumpy, and one sleeve was longer than the other by a noticeable amount, but his bright smile added sincerity to the comment.

Molly beamed at her fourteen-year-old son. "You think so? I didn't think knitting would be so difficult, but I got the hang of it by the second sleeve. I'm afraid your father's was-"

"Lovely, dear," Arthur said,. His own had such a wide neck it was difficult to tell which end was up.

Smiling, Molly said, "Well then! I sense a new holiday tradition!"


	10. Blessed Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

Xenophilius was drawn out of his study by the low murmur of his wife's voice and the delighted laughter of his daughter.

He found them in Luna's bedroom. His wife had hung a garland around the foot of their child's bed. It was mostly greenery, but there were a number of large blue buds on it. As Luna reached out to touch one of these, it opened and released a small cloud of silvery stars and a mini crescent moon. Luna laughed again and clapped her hands. His wife just smiled.

He could think of no better moment than this.


	11. Sole Christmas

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

Even after nearly five months, Alice always seemed loath to put her son down. Frank was happy just to see the two of them, in quiet moments, sitting together in front of the fire with the Christmas tree's scent on the air. He might be studying killers' profiles, or reading incident reports sent over by Magical Law Enforcement, but all he had to do was glance up and see the pair of them together to feel a sense of peace and determination.

"Are we doing the right thing?"

"Yes Alice. We are."

If naught else, they had to protect him.


	12. Christmas Declaration

I do not own any of the characters, the world, the magic or any of it. Please enjoy

------------------------

Christmas had gone pleasantly until dinner conversation turned to school. Ernie's mother was concerned about her son's seventh year and the danger she felt he was accepting.

She expected an argument, but he just smiled calmly at her.

"Mom, you taught me always to be honest, right? To let people know what I think?"

She nodded.

"Well, I think Harry's right. I'm going to fight for him. For us. And I think that fight's important enough to bet my life."

She walked over and hugged him. "I think we might have done too good a job with you," she said.


End file.
